But I'm Gone
by littledarkone
Summary: January 27, 1984. That was the day her life officially ended. written for speedrent. Focuses on how Pam got AIDS. PamAngel friendship, PamOC


Pam lay on her hospital bed, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. The end was coming, she knew it. She just wished she had more time.

The machines around her whirred, the IV in her arm pumping medicine and fluids into her dying body. The door to her room was slightly ajar, and she could here people scurrying around in the hallway, no one paying any attention to the poor, AIDS-ridden woman in room 364B.

_Why me?_

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. What did she ever do to deserve this?

It's not like she was a bad person. She went to church. She didn't do drugs, smoke, or even drink too much. She prayed every day. She called her mother. She wasn't greedy, or mean. So why, instead of all the bad, sex-crazed drunken junkies out there, did she have to get AIDS?

She supposed it all started back in college. She was never especially pretty. Her blonde hair always hung lank around her ears, lifeless and constantly tangling. Her dull blue eyes never shined, never twinkled, never pierced. She wasn't fat, but not skinny either. A happy medium. She was just plain, unnoticeable Pam. So it was odd, then, when someone began paying attention to her.

"Hey."

Pam looked up, startled. She had been sitting on the common, reading a book. Suddenly, there was this gorgeous black haired, blue eyed beauty crouched beside her, talking to her. His name was Damien.

"Um. Hi." She cursed herself at how meek she sounded.

"I'm Damien," his voice was deep and floaty, and she smiled a little whenever he spoke.

"I know. I mean--" she giggled, embarrassed. "You're in two of my classes. I'm Pam."

"I've seen you around a lot. You're in McAllister's Advanced Chem. class right?" She nodded, to afraid to speak. He smiled at her. Pam's heart melted. "You're kind of a loner aren't you?"

Pam blushed a little. 'Well, yeah. Um, none of my friends went to college so, um, I'm all alone here." She shrugged sort of pitifully, and he grinned at her again.

"Well, a couple of us are getting together tonight. D'you wanna go with me?"

Pam let out a little breath. She had a huge test tomorrow she should study for...

"I'd love to."

"Great," he replied. "So I'll be picking you up around...eight?" Pam nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously. He laughed, and she blushed yet again. "Awesome. I'll see you then." He held her hand for a moment, then stood and walked away, looking back at her for another smile.

Pam had to resist jumping up and down with excitement. She, Pamela Elizabeth Harold, had a date tonight...with _Damien_. She hastily stuck her book in her bag. She had to go get ready.

----  
The next few months flew by in a blissful whir. Damien was the perfect boyfriend, taking her out to eat, holding doors open for her, calling her every night. She remembered every moment of it; holding hands as they strolled through the park, sharing kisses during 'study time', making love with the windows open, the late summer rain falling and the breeze cooling their heated bodies.

He made her feel beautiful, wanted, and cherished. She loved him. He loved her. So, there was nothing to make her think it would all come to a screeching halt.

January 27, 1984. That was the day her life officially ended.

It was the day before her five month anniversary, and she was in her apartment cooking dinner. She was a bit worried that Damien hadn't called and it was almost eight thirty, but she didn't fret too much. She was a trusting person.

So imagine her surprise when Damien walked in at eleven forty-five, drunk and stoned off his ass, laughing hysterically at something or another, clutching a bottle of vodka in one hand and a joint in the other.

"Hey baby," he slurred, seeing her rise angrily from the table. The candles had long since gone out, the food turned stone-cold.

"Where were you?" she demanded, her eyes flashing. Angry red spots rose in her cheeks. "I've been worried sick about you. I was ready to call the police!"

"Tch, ya shouldn't worry like tha', Pam," he grumbled, kicking off his shoes and putting his joint out in the sink. "I'm a big boy. I c'n take care o' m'self."

"That's not the point, Damien," she said. "This isn't the first time this has happened. Suddenly, you've been late; you've been calling off dates. It's like you're forgetting me. Our five-month anniversary is tomorrow, for God's sake! Can't you care a little more?"

"Look," he said, stumbling over to her and looking at her with glazed eyes, "I can do wha'ever I want."

"Then do it somewhere else," she said, pushing him in the chest. "Get out of my apartment. Now."

He glared, tightening his fists as though he was preparing to smack her, the turned and stormed out the door, completely forgetting his shoes.

Pam sighed, pressing her hands to her face. She was crying, slouching on the couch. She felt as though a part of her had been ripped out of her chest, puréed, and shoved back in.

Damien was gone.

------  
"Pam. Hey. Pick the phone, please? It's...it's me. Please, I have to talk to you. Pick up the phone baby, please."

Pam stopped, not breathing, her keys in her hand and a bag of groceries in her other hand. It had been weeks since she had last seen Damien. He had dropped all of his classes and transferred somewhere else, and she hadn't heard from him since. Now, nearly three weeks later, he was suddenly calling her? Something wasn't right, she knew it.

She dropped her groceries and keys on the counter and picked up the phone. She took a breath and answered. "Hello."

"Hey." He sounded a bit surprised. "Look, um, I just called to say that I'm, uh. I'm sorry."

"Oh." She didn't know how to respond. She twirled the phone cord around her fingers and swallowed. "Um, thanks. If that's all you wanted to say--?"

"No, there's, uh, there's more." She heard him hesitate, and take a breath. "Look, I just got tested for AIDS and um, I'm positive. I think you ought to get tested too."

Pam stopped breathing, her hand tightening on the phone. Had she heard him right? AIDS? But...but she couldn't get AIDS. Other people got AIDS, like the junkies and prostitutes. Good girls like Pam didn't get AIDS. She couldn't, she can't, she won't--

"So you...you cheated on me?"

"Yeah." He paused. "I'm sorry. Look, I have to go. Um, I'm really sorry."

"Sorry? You're _sorry_? 'Sorry' means nothing!" She was screaming at him now, her hands shaking in fury, tears streaming at her face. Before she could take another breath, the line went dead. She dropped the phone, sobbing, hugging herself.

_No no no no no._

----  
Now, as she lay in her hospital bed, alone and dying, she clutched her crucifix to her heart, praying to God that it would all be over soon. She tried to remember the good times back in high school, with her friends and parents, instead of the hell she had been living the past few years. The medication, the visits to the doctors, the Life Support meetings. It was all one big blur.

She wished she had more time. She wished she had followed Angel's example of living for the day. Now, she'd give anything for just one more day to do all the things she wished she'd done...

She let out a shaky breath, turning her head through the window. She wouldn't cry. She needed to be strong, though for who, she didn't know. But she wouldn't let herself break down, not now.

"Hi, Pam."

Pam turned, surprised, to the door. Angel stood there, nervously patting an unknown rhythm on his arm. It was one of the rare days when she was out of drag. But now, with Angel's declining health, she'd been a 'he' much more often.

"Hi Angel. W-what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't at Life Support today and Paul told me you'd been taken into the hospital. So, I came to say hi. And I brought you flowers." He held them out like a peace offering, a sad smile on his lips. Pam took them gratefully, propping them up on her bedside table and smiled at them happily.

"Thank you Angel. It means a lot, it really does." She sighed and looked away. Angel came to sit beside her.

"Pam. I just wanted to let you know that, well, we're all thinking of you down at Life Support. The others said they'd drop by later, to wish you well and..."

"And say goodbye." Angel looked at her, surprised. Pam waved it off. "Don't bother trying to lie, Angel. I know I'm dying. I just..." she trailed off, looking at the ceiling. "I just wish I had more time." She looked at Angel again and smiled. "You're a wonderful person, Angel. Remember that. I love you."

A tear escaped Angel's eye and he sat on the bed and enveloped Pam in a tight hug. "I love you too sweetie. Oh, this just isn't fair." He wiped it away angrily and tried to smile at her. "Be good, Pam. I'll be back later, I promise."

Pam watched Angel turn around for one last smile and wave before leaving. Pam was comforted knowing at least one person cared. Angel had always been the life of the group, always smiling and telling jokes, surprising everyone with her eccentric and outlandish outfits, sometimes surprising everyone with drinks and dinner at the Life Café when meetings ran short or when Paul failed to show. Now that she was so near death, she was grateful for such a friend.

She settled back in the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Though she was cold and frail, her heart was warmed by Angel's spontaneous visit. She looked at the flowers on the table, smiling, before finally drifting off to sleep.

**FIN.**


End file.
